Salt and Bile
by dreadedhuman
Summary: After Blair finds out that her best friend had slept with her boyfriend she shatters into a million pieces. Drabble, don't if I will ever make a story out of it. Possible TW; description of eating disorders (bulimia) Very angsty and dramatic.


_No no no._

Blair couldn't think. She couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe, the sobs and tears clogging her throat, making her heart feel as if it was about to bust out of anguish and anger.

 _Why? She had taken everything. The flashlights and the attention, all the interested looks from men on the street, all the girls wanting to be like her. And now_ _ **him**_ _. Why, after all of the things she had already stolen from me, she had to take the last thing that made me happy, the last thing that mattered, I was sure of._ _ **Him.**_

Since she had found out that her once best friend had slept with the love of her life everything had been a blur. She remembered screaming, but making no sense, hammering her fists against his chest, trying to express the infinite anger and hurt that was eating her alive but it didn't work. She had stormed off, the worried voices of her supposedly best friend and boyfriend calling after her but she didn't want to hear them. She took the next best taxi, staring out of the window, driving to the first bar she could think of that sold alcohol to minors. She drank until she couldn't feel her legs and the world was turning around her. At least it took the edge off her pain. Someone must have called her a cab, as the next thing she remembered was standing in the elevator to her apartment. As soon as she entered the empty flat, she could feel the tequila trying to make its way out of her stomach, so she ran upstairs, tripping and tumbling before she finally reached the tiled room and released all the drinks into the expensive porcelain bowl, tasting of bile. After she finished her business, she laid on her back on the floor, the cold hard tiles pressing against her body, the room still spinning. She hated herself. She hated herself, she hated Nate, she hated Serena, her mother, this apartment, this city, this world.

Before she could fall asleep right on the spot, just to flee from all the overwhelming emotions that were consuming her, her stomach growled- and without thinking twice, she stood up. She looked into the morror, her dark brown eyes staring back from her reflection, filled with so much hatred and pain. She didn't care anymore. About anything. She ran into the kitchen, her head surprisingly clear all of the sudden. She knew exactly what to do. Even though she had promised her blonde, beautiful best friend, many years ago to never do _it_ again. But that person was not her friend, never had been, she had destroyed her, she had carelessly destroyed every last glimmer of happiness in her life. Violently she opened the cupboard, pushing all the healthy foods aside, knowing her mother still hid the unhealthy snacks from her. And there it was; a pack of chocolate and a box of sugary cereal. Blair took the boxes, fetched milk from the fridge along a box of leftover Chinese noodles. An odd, yet familiar mixture of dread and joy flowed through her body at the thought of what she was about to do. She locked herself in her room and laid the food items on her bed and looked at it, contemplating for just a second if she really wanted to destroy years of therapy and self-control. But it didn't really matter anymore, right? She had nothing to lose. So in her drunken stupor she dug in, falling into the comforting trance of eating without feeling, trying to fill the hole in her heart with sugary, half-chewed food.

Before she knew it, empty wrappers and boxes were spread all around her, her bed full of crumbles and grease stains. She was so full, every breath hurt. So she took the walk of shame she hadn't taken in so long. Her hands on her stomach, her body half crouched, as she couldn't stand up straight from her bursting full stomach. Finally she reached her destination; the expensive clean white toilet, made out of incredibly expensive Italian porcelain. She leaned over, plunged her fingers down her throat and in a disgusting sound of her gagging, the sweet release of the heavy food in her stomach out of her mouth into the toilet came, tasting of bile and shame. She repeated this process many times, tears streaming down her face, until nothing but burning bile tormented her throat. In a trance she flushed the toilet, wiped her face, and went back to her room. She closed the door and then stood there, in front of her bed, staring at what she had done. And then it finally dawned to her; she had lost her boyfriend today, along with her best friend. She had gotten drunk alone, to the point of throwing up, and then she ate all this disgusting food only to stick her fingers down her throat. She was pathetic. She wasn't a queen, she wasn't beautiful and classy. She was pathetic, small and broken.

And with that she broke down. Sobs, so violent she couldn`t breathe anymore made their way up her throat, salty tears streaming down her face, the cautiously perfectly applied make up dripping down her neck. The pain was so excruciating, it felt as if she was falling to pieces. She clutched her arms around her chest, in an attempt to hold her body together. She fell to her knees, trying to catch her breath, but the sobs and burning tears made it impossible. And for a moment she really thought she was dying

The doe eyed girl rolled together on the floor tried to endure the agony and loneliness that were rippling through every cell of her body. Finally, she drifted off to sleep, in her stained designer dress, the Chanel make up smeared all over her, the persistent smell of vomit hovering in the room.


End file.
